


Break Out

by 23CR3T



Category: Thrilling Intent (Web Series)
Genre: AU, Angst, Ashe's not-magic, Gen, Markus's magic, More or less character death, theorization
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-05
Updated: 2017-12-05
Packaged: 2019-02-11 00:30:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12923436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/23CR3T/pseuds/23CR3T
Summary: Overpowered in a different way.Ashe's bindings break.Based on this: http://mathes0n.tumblr.com/post/157067594366/ive-got-a-few-ideas-as-to-what-might-happen-to





	Break Out

“Are you sure you’re ok, Ashe?  You uh… took a lot of damage there.”  Markus stands up, rubbing the cuts and bruises on his upper arm.

 

“Yeah, you healed me like five times back there, and Thog too.” Gregor balances himself out with his polearm, he dusts himself off.

 

Ashe stretches backwards with a few loud pops from her spine.  “Actually I feel great!”  Her fingers let a spark or two fly free.

 

Thog steps forwards and puts a hand on her forehead, “Yeah, bullshit.  Let’s get you all back to town, we’ll collect payment and see a healer about all of you.”

 

“No, seriously.” Ashe brushes the hand off, “Markus, come here, I’ll take care of your arm!”

Ashes lays her hands on his bicep before the magician can protest, a strong light flashes and crackles through his arm.  “See?  Fine.”

 

“I don’t know, we talked about this, Ashe.  Talk, to, us…”  Gregor slows his words, moving closer to her.

 

Ashe rolls her eyes, “Promise, Gregor.  Now let’s go shake that guy down for more pay, those Vanity Nymphs were not worth 3,000.”  She picks her sword from where it fell, energy still tickling her fingers.

 

“Um…  I think you have a little something going on here, Ashe.”  Markus looks at the crack running along the side of the purple markings on her arm.  

 

“What? ...Shit.  I don’t know what to do!”  Ashe looks down at the other arm, also breaking off, her fingers crackle audibly with energy.  “Um… Ummm… Inien!  Inien might know how to fix this!”

 

“I saw her at the bar, right near the dock!”  Gregor points the way they’d come from, an hour hike back down the mountain to Northwestington.

 

Thong pushes his hair back with one hand, “Dammit, one thing after another, c’mon we’re going now!”

 

Twenty feet down the path Markus summons an imp, “This is Jonathan Ragnarok Esquire the third, I want you to run, run as fast as you can get Inien.”

 

“Gliblahmehninubleh?”

 

“Yeah her, she’s somewhere in the town ahead, get her and bring her back!” Markus reaches to throw the imp as Ashe touches it briefly, it’s leg muscles bulk as it soars into the distance.

 

“Ashe!”

 

“What?  It’s just energy leaking out a bit, Gregor.  It’s fine I’m… getting rid of the access.” Ashe half yells, she continues running.

 

* * *

 

 

It’s about half an hour of solid running later when they see a person jump into their path.

 

“Aha, bet you didn’t expect to see me here, giiirl!”  Ballast McGee poses awkwardly.  “I’m here to finally exact revenge for my dearly departed brother, giiirl.”

 

The group continues charging towards him.

 

The idiot adjusts his hat, “Even though it was clever of you to send such a distracting tiny red cat before you, you are no match for Balla-”

 

Markus beats him to and with a punch, “Not right fucking now!”

 

“How’re you holding up back there!” Thog yells, shoving Ballast out of the way entirely.

 

“Ashe? ...Ashe?” Gregor taps her shoulder only to receive a harmless spark, as several more travel to a trampled Ballast McGee.

 

“Huh?  What I’m- I.. uh, I’m alright… Uh… What?”  Ashe looks up for the first time in a while, her eyes noticeably dilated.  She looks around realizing how far they’ve come, then down at the thunderstorm of her limbs.  “Aaah!”

 

“Damnit, where’s Inien?”  Markus continues forwards.

 

* * *

 

 

Meanwhile on the dock of Northwestington…

 

“No, you cannot,  pass through here without your proper legal papers.” A paladin looks down at the tiny red imp hopping up and down with great urgency.

 

“Dalaroghwamanariitakoow!”  The imp screams frantically.

 

A woman in purple passes in the background, her cloak sways as she hears the demonic gibberish.  “Hm?  Oh Bor, it’s okay, I know him.”

 

“Why, my lady, I wasn’t aware.  Far be it from me kow such a creature would have known a rich lady, such as thine self.”  He bows and steps down.

 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m great and wonderful and whatever.” Inien turns her attention to the frantic Imp, “So what what’s wrong this time?”

 

“Flakmoogapacakakroamixenarr!”  Johnathan points up the path, where despite the beautiful day, dark clouds have formed above a single area.

 

Inien looks between the two, the imp, then the clouds, then the imp.  “Shit boy, Kelly’s in the well?” A firm nod, “Lead the way.”

 

The imp begins running back as Inien casts a quick haste upon herself.

 

* * *

 

 

Back with our heros, Markus dramatically trips on a rock and his own legs, but mostly his legs.

 

“Go on without me!”  He reaches out to the friends not twenty feet away.

 

Ashe grinds to a halt and blinks the mist from her eyes, “Markus..? Don’t be ridiculous we’re almost to- fuck!”  She kneels over, grabbing at her throat as if she’s choking.

 

“Oh no, the thing, the-the magic thing is cracking!” Gregor, unsure how to approach Ashe, is pointing to her visible bindings as she contracts in the dirt.  She groans in pain.

 

Thog takes a step closer, ready to administer emergency CPR, just to be struck by the pure energy circling her.  He looks down at his hand, severely singed but still glowing, the green seeps in and begins to fix the damage it caused.

 

Markus stands back up and examines the marks from a good distance, both rings on her arms have nearly broken and the ones near her neck seem to be climbing.  Ashe moves a grip from her throat to her hair, letting out a croak for help.

 

Gregor and Markus share a look, each knowing nothing about anything that could help.  Ashe gives a fast flash of light and immediately dims back down, she lies on the ground, heavily panting and unconscious.

 

Gregor rushes to her side and lifts her up, ready to start running again, as he feels the not magic begin to slither it’s way up his arms.  “I can’t hold her long.”  Markus summons the shadows to make a stretcher, which the fighter lays her down on, the three immediately begin wheeling her towards town once again.

 

“How close to town are we, Thog?” Markus yells.

 

Thog looks down the path, not stopping, “At least another twenty.”

 

Gregor looks up to the two elder men, “Is she gonna make it?”  

 

Ashe’s body twitches, the energy building up again.

 

“I don’t know, Gregor… I… don’t…”

 

* * *

 

 

Jonathan leads the witch over the river and through the woods, not slowing down until he sees a mass of bright light being pushed on a large mass of black shadow.  He jumps up and down, yelling and pointing down the road.

 

“Damn Ashe, the heck did you do?”  Inien pants lightly and meets the group halfway in the clearing, only to have to dodge the cart her next patient lays upon. “Stop! Stop, you crazy motherfuckers!” She breathes hard.

 

Gregor reacts first, “Inien! You gotta help her!  We were fighting the hive of pixie-kin which actually turned out to be vanity nymphs and Ashe helped us a bunch, we were all really tired until she said she felt fine and-”

 

“Her bindings are breaking!” Markus yells over the frantic Gregor.

 

“Can you fix it?” Thog looks up to Inien’s shocked face.

 

The witch pulls back her bangs and snaps her fingers, a bag of supplies poofs into existence. “I have no idea how you managed to break elven freaking mithral neodymium alchemical cross binding, but I need you all at my ready!” Inien reaches into her bag, pulling out several vials and small pouches.

 

“Yes, ma’am.” “Whatever you need!” “Just tell us what to do!” “Dimipengalemalop” Merge as the three men and an imp stand ready.

 

Inien points to Gregor, “High pain tolerance, if you can absorb any of the excess coming off her, take the hit, hurt something and absorb it, deflect it off her, injure her, whatever!”

 

“Injure Ashe?” Gregor loses grip on his glaive.

 

“If you can get close enough, making the excess power leave or be used up is our only option.  Avoid the purple marks and she’ll be  fine!”  Inien points to Thog and Jonathan, “Fire, start one, these ingredients need to be heated and mixed.”

 

“Rodger that!”  Thog runs to the nearby woods, imp in tow.

 

Markus inches closer looking over Inien’s shoulder as she flips to a later page, “Inien I-”

 

“Shhh!” She hands him the book and a bottle of black ink. “Magic circle, kuravian death salt and kraken ink, just go!”

 

Tasks are handled, some with more grace than others.  Gregor groans and grunts in pain, taking the energy he’s so used to and going extreme, though not able to get close to the source, he thinks he might be able to smell again.  Thog’s fire goes fast, the wind is picking up, but with help the fire soon lights.

 

Markus sets up the circle to the best of his ability, copying it from the book to a tee.  Inien is waist deep in her bag looking for a substitute for 10% cursed tar.

 

It goes well until the circle is done and Ashe must be moved into it.  Jonathan looks up, solutes to the others and simply says, “Higlamon… Quopedsilobintu.... Gelewonfopunuseya.”  He walks into the eye of the storm wheeling Ashe into the circle, being hit by many bolts, the pain apparent on his little face as his skin singes and changes colour.  With a final step, Jonathan Ragnarok Esquire the third, crumples with no regrets.

 

“You glorious man… Your sacrifice will not be forgotten.”  Markus sheds a single tear and runs the book back to Inien’s legs, pulling the top half out of the bag of holding. “Inien, we’re already down a man, what’s next?”

 

“It’s taken a life!?  Goddamnit, Markus.”  Inien pushes the the sourcelock out of the way, she attempts to stir the pot over the fire. “Fuck, no time!  Markus, reach in and take this lump of clay out of this damn pot!” She kicks the pot for emphasis.

 

Without a second thought he reaches in and heft the lump out following her towards the edge of the circle.

 

Within the circle Aesling only seems to have gotten worse, the glow forming a field around the choking bodice, curses in another language can be heard over the loud striking sound.  Gregor lies next to the line of salt and ink, huffing and exhausted, distinctly smelling of burns but otherwise looking unharmed.

 

“All of you, here now!  What we’re seeking here is the equivalent to a magical dam breaking, Ashe was bound at a very very young age, normally you’re bound some time after puberty so you can adjust to the bindings.  However, since she was bound before so she grew around the binds, normally no problem they stretch a little and whatever.  Not this fucking time.”  Inien molds the clay as she speaks, wrapping the clay around itself like a nest.

 

“Yeah but what can we DO?” Thog grips his hands into the material of his vest, knuckles white.

 

Inien shoots him a quick glare, “The binds are cracking, because whatever’s in her is too strong in the three cardinal ways a being resists binding; forcefully, physically, mentally.  It’s pushing hard and if we can’t slip this extra in to temporarily fill the stretch room, who know how far the damage will go!”

 

The boys flinch back, “How... far?” Markus asks.

 

“It could destroy her body, it could destroy the continent, it could do absolutely nothing; but are best chance is filling it in for now.  All I need you to do be my physical anchor, hold my body down literally while it tries to devour me for sealing it.” Inien holds the ball of stringy mud.

 

“Will this fix her?” Gregor speaks up.

 

Inien begins the ritual casting, “I can’t make any promises.”

 

Ashe’s body lies on it’s back, she moves as if her puppet strings are being jerked in all directions.  The world itself caves in on itself where her energy meets the air, much like when the hand of stone tears through, only this time more energy pours out and pounds against the existing.  The group holds Inien down, literally digging into the ground with their heels as a gravity seemingly to only affect her pulls her up and towards the storm.  

 

“This… This isn’t working…” Inien mutters as the lump of clay string is quickly dwindling.  

 

The three freeze, there’s nothing to do, nothing they can do, and their friend in pain.  With a great falter Inien screams, “You’re all idiots!  I told you to anchor me, you had one job! One!” Inien screams as she is thrown into the field of force, her tiny witch body pings off the green with loud ping, she whizzes into the distance.  The clay ball unravels and zooms towards Ashe, colliding with her.

 

“Ashe!” Thog yells, shielding his face from the surrounding debris. “Markus stop!”

 

Markus has his arms held out towards the mesh of not magic, his hands aglow. “But- but maybe if I just..?  I think I can help her!”  Markus lets his magic reach forward and be udderly rejected.

 

The arm of moss and stone rips into reality, backhanding Markus into Gregor, its rips through the ground and magic circle.  Painful sounds are shared as the sky reaches down to strike the guardian.

 

Energy collides with itself as the ball of energy rapidly expands to the area of the ink and salt, then reconvenes, falling into itself and spitting a body into the edge of the clearing.  The light fires directly upwards, clearing the dark skies and revealing the pleasant day that had existed prior.  Only traces of mist in the crisp air remain.

 

Gregor at full speed runs towards the body, which was launched across the field.  “Guys! Guys she’s not breathing!”  Gregor cries from the short distance, he cradles the body.  What was once Ashe now lays lifeless and limp, the marks broken through like a shattered plate.

 

“Stand back, I’m certified in CPR!” Thog rushes over, Markus in tow.  He lays her down flat on the ground and rhythmically compresses for a good 20 seconds.  He hesitates before pinching her nose, tilting her head back, and breathing. Nothing happens.

 

“She’s… gone.” Markus stares down upon the woman before him, once filled with literal life, now empty, just as she feared. 

 

Gregor rests a hand on her forehead as Thog lifts the corpse from the ground, neither knowing what to do with it.  There’s several moments of silence.

 

…

 

Crack!

 

The three turn to the forgotten crater, eyes falling upon and ethereal figure, for a split second there is a sense of relief.  The mood quickly turns sour.

 

In the mist stands a woman, a doppelganger of their friend with eyes like a firefly, purple marked skin dancing on the curve of her skin, and hands controlling an all too familiar green spark. 

 

“Ashe….?

 

She speaks in a calm voice, “I’m truly sorry, but the Aesling you knew is dead.”


End file.
